Sorority
by Sgt. Curbstomp
Summary: This is the story of a Sisterhood. Not one of the Adepta Sororitas, but of a more...Chaotic kind. Rated M for profanity and graphic violence.
1. Introduction

**Well, here it is. The idea that's been building in my mind since December. Please do review, it'd mean a lot.**

**UPDATE: A certain Disciple of Ember pointed out how Sue-ish the characters sounded, so I've made some revisions to this story, a lot of it came from me not being clear enough in my descriptions, and the kill-counts were definitely the only truly unrealistic thing about this story.**

**But without further ado, I present to you, _Sorority._**

**Enjoy.**

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><p><em>Sorority<em>

The 41st millennium. An era of eternal war. Across the galaxy stretched the Imperium of Man, beset from all sides by foul Xenos and nightmarish creatures of the Warp. The massive empire was not a happy place, for many of its citizens were disillusioned by the wide-scale oppression and disregard for life that they committed the ultimate heresy of defecting to the Imperium's many enemies, submitting their souls to damnation in the faintest hope of relief. While most of these wayward folk simply said, "I quit," a rare few were actually raised amongst Mankind's foes, fighting their fellow humans in the name of their masters.

Such was the case of the Sorority of Violence, a fierce, bloodthirsty cult of warrior-women who paid tribute to Khorne, God of rage, war, blood, and hate. Rightfully feared amongst those who knew of them, the few who survived their encounter with the Sisterhood told of murderous lunatics who had eyes of vicious gold, who soaked, streaked, and otherwise styled their filthy hair with human blood, and sharpened their nails and teeth into claws and fangs, like she-wolves or vampires. From another perspective, despite these barbaric alterations, and the scars earned or self-inflicted by many of the Sisters, a small few of them could be considered somewhat attractive, but it would be folly to try and flatter them with such comments, for all that mattered to them was killing in Khorne's name.

The Sorority planted itself like a festering wound in the Phlegyas Sector, indiscriminately razing Imperial strongholds and butchering those occupying them without mercy. Like a bolt of lightning, the Sisters would come seemingly from nowhere, screaming blasphemy towards the Emperor, their chain-weapons snarling thirst for blood and demands for violence, cutting through armor and flesh alike. Almost none would be left alive in their wake, for the cult gave no quarter and never expected any in return. Any who did not immediately receive death were given it later once captured by the Sorority and forced to father new members, being sacrificed to Khorne when deemed no longer useful. Some compared their ferocity and lust for battle to the old World Eaters Traitor Legion, but they were no Astartes, for the Sorority was too small to fight on such a large scale, did not have the advantage of the many genetic and daemonic enhancements a Chaos Space Marine enjoyed, and their tactical doctrine could be considered little more than banditry. All they relied on was their martial skill, the fear they spread, and raw determination to kill, maim, and burn.

But for all of this talk of terror and murder, they were still a single cult of two thousand members in a galaxy populated by trillions of people. It is here, however, where their story is told. Here, you will find the bloody mark they made in the Dark Millennium. This is the tale of the Sorority of Violence, the Queens of War, the Daughters of Khorne, the Angels of the Blood God.

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><p><strong>And there you have the introduction. The actual characters will be introduced in the next chapter, and then the <em>real <em>story will begin.**


	2. Chapter One: Dramatis Personae

**Okay, here it is, the place where you all will meet the cast of this story. By the way, there's a pop culture reference here, and if you spot it, say so in your review.**

**Speaking of which, please do leave a review, that way I can improve any flaws in my writing and so you can say you found any references I sneak into this story.**

**Thanks to Disciple of Ember for helping me fix this story and make these girls the blood-spattered ragamuffins they truly are. (heheh, ragamuffins. I love that word.)**

**That's about it.**

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><p><em>Chapter One: Dramatis Personae<em>

As one could expect in a cult dedicated to Khorne, the Sorority of Violence was full to the brim with lunatics, freaks, and psychopaths, but not every Sister was foaming-at-the-mouth mad. Some were cold-hearted sociopaths, and others channeled their insanity into obsessions or vendettas. But all, no matter how mentally unhinged, were incredibly efficient in their dealing of death and mayhem wherever they wandered.

Like the current Mistress of the Sisterhood herself, known only by the name of Massacre, for example. Even at a glance, she looked very out of place as chief of the Sorority, for she was, compared to most Sisters, quite good-looking, even gorgeous. A dirty blonde in a bastardized Commissar's uniform (with its original owner's skull hanging from her belt, and Imperial sigil replaced with the Mark of Khorne), Massacre was one of the calmer Sisters, being incredibly cunning and savvy, using her sharp tongue to negotiate potential alliances and means of getting to new battles, her eviscerator and storm bolter taking care of any disagreements. She did, however, have her violent outbursts from time to time, and the rest knew when to stay away.

The same cannot be said for High Priestess Carnage, though. Armed with a chainaxe, a bolt pistol, and a literally murderous temper, the raven-haired 21-year-old was slightly above average-looking at best, but poetically, she possessed an air of dark, prideful regality. She often got into fights with Massacre, believing that because Carnage had become High Priestess (which required 400 kills) in just five years, Khorne surely had His eye on her, which the Mistress considered childish arrogance. Her claim does seem to have some merit, however, for Carnage lost sight in her right eye in battle, a pair of scars running down that side of her face, the eye itself now a milky white. While this may seem a setback, Carnage views it as a challenge, fully confident in her ferocious fighting ability to finally take over as Mistress of the Sisterhood.

While Carnage thought of her disfigurement as a way to further prove herself, the only other High Priestess, a blonde named Cutthroat, used hers as a weapon as much as her bearded power axe. When she was younger, an enemy's knife pierced her right cheek, splitting it open. And although it did heal, it never actually closed, resulting in a gash so deep one could see _inside her mouth_, watching the few remaining muscles contract and lengthen when she spoke and her teeth move up and down. Combined with her youthful, minx-like looks, it was a downright _horrifying_ sight, even her fellow Sisters felt uncomfortable around her. Cutthroat's icy, calculating, distant demeanor further enhanced the aura of fear she generated, and often having enemies freeze in terror before being hacked apart.

Cutthroat was easily the closest thing the Sorority had to "sane." But the blonde Frenzy was the closest thing they had to "complete animal." Any semblance of good looks were destroyed by her addiction to combat drugs, resulting in a sallow, sunken face, incredibly bloodshot eyes, and a nearly emaciated figure. And it didn't end there, for her vision became red-tinted and sepia like, her speech was quick, short, and repetitive, and she had absolutely no problem going on all fours. In fact, Frenzy was so dependent on the stimulants that she wore a modified respirator mask, its cylinders now holding tubes that went into her nose, giving her a constant source of high so she could shred through foes with a pair of clawed gauntlets.

Just as insane, if not more so, than Frenzy was Lacerator, a short brunette. Unlike most of the Sorority, Lacerator clearly enjoyed herself while fighting, cackling madly with every swing of her chainaxe, not out of sadism but for the simple rush of combat. Easily the most sanguine (pun intended) Sister, she rarely frowned and would often begin laughing hysterically for no apparent reason, to the point where the whole Sorority thought of her as "off," even though madness was just a facet of everyday life for them. To reiterate, Lacerator was so psychotic amongst psychos that even they noticed.

Next in line was another brunette, a misanthropic cynic named Bloodmaw, after her ever-present splattering of blood surrounding her mouth. She could taunt, insult, and criticize just about anyone at any time, and it was a small wonder that nobody skirted the Sorority's rule of not killing each other when it came to Bloodmaw. Perhaps it was because she often won the fights that she inevitably started amongst the Sisters she'd insulted, and no one argued against her skills in combat. It had gotten to the point that if you were to question Bloodmaw's outward, vicious misanthropy, she'd answer with, "Because I can, and we need a putter-downer." Ironically enough, her face looked rather friendly, which could be misinterpreted as her being so. Unbeknownst to the rest of the Sorority, Bloodmaw had a secret shame in having a lovely singing voice, and would often quietly sing when she was all alone.

Whereas Bloodmaw talked very often, a dirty blonde named Huntress was practically mute. Not out of shyness, but as a personal choice, believing that the energy diverted to speaking was energy that could've been used for fighting. Whenever she did talk, it was to answer questions that could not be answered by nodding/shrugging and the occasional snarky comment. She had a narrow face with a somewhat beakish nose, which she usually hid with a black shemagh, yet the sleek, petite body of an assassin. Huntress' name derived from her method of collecting war trophies, stalking battlefields to collect a tooth from every 8th kill she'd made, like a predator looking for prey. To further this idea, she even fought in silence, coolly hacking and hewing foes with her power saber and eerie grace.

Like Huntress, a free-spirited young brunette named Knives had a degree of elegance on the battlefield, but unlike Huntress, that was exactly what she was going for. A meek (even mousy) looking, yet talented killer with an obsession for her namesake, Knives liked using her twin combat blades "Blood" and "Gore" to make elaborate, contrived, and often flashy kills, simply to challenge herself. Off the field, she was cult champion in Five Finger Fillet and other knife games, and would perfect various tricks she had taught herself to do, which conflicted with her attitude that suggested she'd rather take hits from a bong than trade them in fights. Knives owned exactly ten knives, excluding the ritual dagger of sharpened brass every initiated Sister carried. Including Blood and Gore, she had six smaller dirks and daggers on the back of her belt, and two in her boots, and liberally use them all in her quest to, in her own words, "Kill in Khorne's name and look awesome while doing it."

Contrasting sharply to the laid-back attitude of Knives was a blonde named Executioner, who was somber and vengeful, which was a shame, because she was a genuinely pretty girl, minus the St. Andrew's Cross she'd cut into her mouth. During the battle that started her career as a Sister, she witnessed her mother be killed right in front of her by a power fist-wielding Commissar. Enraged and grief-stricken, the young blonde attacked, so quickly he barely saw her chainsword coming, killing the man so brutally that it was more like an execution than a fair fight, which earned her name. Her dying mother left her with the final words of "kill more than I could ever hope to." And just like that, the newly-christened Executioner took the Commissar's power fist (and the severed hand in it as a trophy/token of memory) and swore to fulfill her mother's wish. However, she is full of self-doubt and questions her value as a Daughter of Khorne, which explains the self-inflicted scars, and as such, fights every battle like her last, determined to take as many as she can down with her.

And finally, there was another blonde named Legion. While she did look like a blood-crazed psychopath, as a person, she was hardly that. Shy, soft-spoken, and even timid, what made the girl the murderous fiend she seemed to be in battle came from her own head. See, ever since she was little, Legion began hearing voices, which became the source of her name, and when battle comes, the voices go from quiet whispers into a screaming cacophony, a maelstrom of noise in Legion's mind, roaring their demands for blood. So powerful is the resulting migraine that she goes totally berserk, and the voices merge with her own, Legion's sense of individuality gone as she refers to herself as "we," eviscerating her foes in a red-hazed fury. But as the fight begins to wind down, so do the voices, gradually returning to their murmuring echoes, and Legion regains her sense of self, going back to the wallflower she normally was.

For all the lunacy and casual disregard for human life these ten members of the Sorority displayed, they were still just ten out of two thousand, which included the gaunt, skinny brunette named Bonesaw, who acted as the Sisters' lone doctor, and the biological platinum and strawberry blonde siblings Frostbite and Skadi, respectively. There were other notable Sisters, but none as unique or as skilled as those presented.

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><p><strong>It's funny how much real life can affect your writing. Why do I say that? Because almost all of these whackjobs borrowed their looks from real girls I know (and trust me, they are nothing like this at all in real life, they are far much nicerprettier, and no, I'm not giving names), and just something in my weird little brain said, "hey, they could totally look like Khorne cultists" and so this was born.**

**Chapter Three will come when I have an idea for it.**


	3. Chapter Two: The Sorority in Action

**I've been a little busy, and it took me awhile to develop this idea, but here's the Sorority in action, yeah, I know, lazy title, but I couldn't think of anything better.**

**Two things before we begin:**

**1. If you still haven't found the reference I made in the previous chapter, reread the last paragraph. Pay close attention to the description of Frostbite and Skadi. Asking Disciple of Ember or BIBOTOT (or is it BITOBOT?) is cheating.**

**2. I'll go ahead and apologize in advance if the fights seem Sue-ish. I'm still working on my ability to describe battle scenes, and this is mostly just a way to show how these girls worship Khorne.**

**Other than that, here's the chapter.**

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><p><em>Chapter Two: The Sorority in Action<em>

Saint Fu was a small, out-of-the-way, peaceful agri-world, located in the Phlegyas Sector's northeast, providing food to its system. In centuries past, it was a corrupt, practically lawless planet, until a Confessor by the name of Fu inspired the working class to rise against their oppressors. The world's government captured him and stitched his mouth shut, but this only served to attract more followers. Eventually, so strong was Fu's influence that the proletariat successfully revolted and overthrew the old government, naming the world after the newly-canonized saint, who was martyred in the revolution. After a few decades, the planet became the way it was now.

But what its inhabitants didn't know is that the Sorority of Violence had found its way onto their little world, overtaking one of its PDF's outlying garrisons with aid from those who transported them there. When the platoon originally stationed there failed to deliver its monthly report, the regimental HQ in the provincial capital sent another to the fort to investigate.

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><p>Seventy-five hidden pairs of yellowy eyes scanned the convoy of about 150 men marching along the dusty road with dangerous intent, huddled in a small patch of woods close to them. The Sisters knew full well of why the soldiers were coming, and had planned to intercept them. About a week after they had set up shop in their new base of operations, the outpost's vox came to life, requesting its log. It didn't take a genius to know what would happen when no answer was given, so with aid from the tactical holo-map within the fort, the Sorority managed to organize the ambush about to happen.<p>

Huntress thought it all over has her thumb absentmindedly brushed over her power sword's activation key, her other hand holding her laspistol. Crouched beside her was a twitching Frenzy, flexing her claws whilst combat drugs surged through her veins. "C'mon, gotta kill. _Must _kill! Need to spill blood!" The practically feral girl chittered, prompting Huntress to turn to her, raising a finger to her shemagh-covered lips before pointing to Knives.

Knives felt honored to be the Sister who was to shoot one of the men right as the Sorority was to start charging in, making sure her bolt pistol was fully loaded. "Get ready, Knives. We move the second you take aim." Massacre whispered next to her. Giving her trusty gun one last look-over, the brunette pulled up her signature leathery brown mask, which covered the lower half of her face. "Khorne's gonna have some new skulls on His Skull Throne, girls!" She excitedly half-whispered, levelling her pistol as her comrades started to run.

A yell of "ambush!" escaped from one of the PDF soldiers' throats when the chest of the guy next to him suddenly exploded in a shower of blood and bits of guts, throwing the whole column into disarray. "WHERE FROM?!" Another hollered as the men frantically looked around for the source, until a third cried, "TO THE RIGHT!" Coming at them was a sight that would be many of theirs' last, a large group of young women, screaming obscenities at both them and the Emperor, a wide variety of weapons, both ranged and melee alike in their arms, taking potshots at them as they continued sprinting.

To say the PDF wasn't prepared was an understatement. St. Fu had never been invaded by enemies of the Imperium and whatever crimes occurred on the planet rarely targeted the Planetary Defense Forces. Still, the inexperienced troops managed to get a few shots off, injuring a few of the oncoming horde.

When the Sorority slammed into the ranks of the platoon, it became a bloodbath. Around 10 men were immediately killed by impacting strikes, and more were soon to join them. Massacre herself killed two with the first swing of her eviscerator, the obscenely large weapon bisecting its victims horizontally. Those surrounding them wisely backed off, but it didn't matter for she began shooting her storm bolter, killing or otherwise fatally wounding another three in the closeness of the fight. "C'MON DOGS, I EXPECTED BETTER! IS THIS THE BEST YOU CAN DO?!" Massacre thundered, striding forward amongst the madness, fighting any who tried to stop her.

"I'M GONNA BLEED YOU BASTARDS WHITE!" Carnage roared in a mix of fury and bliss, for in the thick of combat was where she truly felt joy, having just earned her second kill to the whining teeth of her chainaxe. Sensing something to her left, the High Priestess turned to see a man coming at her with a combat knife, his arm out wide. Carnage grinned. _Idiot_, she thought, grabbing the outstretched arm, taking him by surprise, holding him there for a brief second, seeing into his fear-flooded eyes through her own working left. She then slammed her axe into his stomach, making him scream in pain. With a devious snicker, Carnage sped up her axe's blade, shredding through his armor, flesh, and insides. After about ten seconds, she let go of the now limp arm and removed the weapon, dropping the man, looking for a new victim.

Meanwhile, Cutthroat fought rather slowly, mostly to make the PDF more terrified than they already were as she cleaved one with her power axe. Unlike Massacre or Carnage, Cutthroat was mostly quiet, keeping her yelling to a minimum, to further push the men's morale to their limits. After her second kill, Cutthroat began shooting with her laspistol, mentally cursing herself when the few shots she fired failed to make a lethal hit. As she comprehended that thought, a soldier let out a war cry from behind, intending to get her with his bayonet. The blonde High Priestess _just barely_ managed to spin around quick enough to pistol-whip him in the head, stunning her would-be attacker. Clutching him by the collar, Cutthroat looked him dead in the eye and murmured, "You…will not…do that…again," before shooting him point-blank between the eyes.

Frenzy carved and cut her way through the battlefield, often finishing forgotten foes left by other Sisters. With a loud snort, another rush pulsed throughout her body, her vision briefly becoming completely red. "Kill…more…!" Frenzy snarled, bounding towards an unaware victim, slashing at his legs until he fell over, clambering on top of him to claw at his face. "Die…rat…die!" The junkie shrieked into his face, which was slowly becoming less and less recognizable as Frenzy tore it apart. Once satisfied, Frenzy got up and turned around to a soldier who yelled, "YOU FUCKING ANIMAL! I'LL KILL YOU!" as he ran at her with both a laspistol and a combat knife, shooting wildly at her, but Frenzy was too quick, thanks to another hit of combat drugs, shoving her bladed fingers into his gut, then swinging her free hand back and forth across his face and neck, bleeding him out fast. Once she was sure he was dead, Frenzy scampered off into the rest of the fray.

"TEN POINTS!" Lacerator cried as she slew her third kill of the fight, taking in the sight of her butchered victim with relish. The psychotic brunette was quite literally putting the "laughter" in "slaughter," guffawing when her axe bit into another unlucky soldier, getting him in the side. Pulling out her laspistol, she put it under his chin and pulled the trigger, burning a hole through his head. A yell behind her prompted her to rapidly make a low swing as she turned, chopping off the legs of her assailant. The second he crashed to the ground, Lacerator finished him off with another pistol shot. "DON'T BE SCARED BOYS, I GOT AN AXE THAT WON'T QUIT!" She hollered, cackling at her own bad joke.

Bloodmaw's mouth spewed insults and profanities like a drunken Rogue Trader as it normally did during fights with incompetent fighters. In fact, it spewed insults and profanities like a drunken Rogue Trader in _every fight_. "EAT BOLT PISTOL, DIPSHIT." She bellowed as she landed another shot into a soldier, getting him in the head, evaporating it into brains and blood. _Kill number three_. She thought, which served to further piss her off. Two, including the one she had just made, had been from bolt shells, and only one was from her blade. _Sweet blood and merciful thunder, I'm losing my touch. Fuck. _Bloodmaw cursed herself, when an opportunity presented itself in the form of one of the platoon's sergeants holding a chainsword, who was eyeing her cautiously to figure out a plan of attack. Smirking, Bloodmaw mockingly beckoned him, "C'mon, boy, I'll be gentle." She pushed, faking a seductive tone. "I'll rip those smart lips right off your mouth, bitch." The officer growled, coming towards her. The brunette managed to block his incoming blow, then cruelly kicked him in the groin nearly a split-second after, slamming her yowling chainsword into his right shoulder once he fell to his knees. _That's better_.

Compared to most battles, Huntress was fighting on the defensive in this one, not because she was nervous, but to test the competency of the St. Fu PDF in melee combat. She'd only made a single kill so far, for her silence did not attract attention from the distracted troops, who were caught up fighting her Sisters. That changed, however, when one of the men, part of the platoon's command squad, came forward with a power sword like hers. _A duel, then_. Huntress thought, pointing her blade at him. Thus their weapons crossed in earnest. The soldier's strikes were slow and heavy, easily blocked by the black-clad Sister, yet when she attempted to counterattack he managed to stop those. _Not bad, for an amateur_. Huntress couldn't help but find him a decent swordsman, yet found an opening after deflecting a wide swing, stabbing the trooper, her sword slickened with his blood. Pulling it out, she decapitated him to make sure he'd be dead. _These guys might actually be pretty good_.

Knives hadn't killed anyone yet, but found herself in the middle of a brawl with three of the PDF men. She had gotten a few stabs and slashes here and there, but none of them lethal. Luckily for her, when one of the fighters attempted to thrust a bayonet at her, Knives made a wide circular motion with her blades to knock the rifle upwards, then stabbed both knives into his chest. Keeping Blood and Gore there, she grabbed his head and kneed him in the face, pulling out one of her boot knives to get the back of his neck. Unable to recover the weapons due to the other two men present, the brunette simply drew her pistol and shot both. "Damn I'm good!" Knives congratulated herself, then holstered the gun and quickly retrieved the three blades she'd left behind before seeking more unique ways to kill.

"I'm not gonna fail you, Mom." Executioner whispered to herself as she stepped into the chaos, almost immediately getting a kill when she slugged an oncoming soldier with her power fist. Her confidence boosted by this, Executioner raised a yell, sprinting forward again until making her second kill with an impacting punch on a trooper who didn't even see her coming. Standing over the corpse, the young blonde simply stood there, catching her breath. Taking in the sight of combat around her, she thought, _I might not get that many this time_, due to the many bodies already strewn about the battlefield. Her mind stalled when her instincts kicked in to quickly turn around and make her third kill when a masculine roar resounded right behind her. _Never mind_.

Several minutes before the fight began, Legion felt a dull throb in her head as the voices seemed to grow louder. _MAIM! KILL! BURN! SLAUGHTER! SHRED! HACK AND HEW! RIP AND TEAR! _They nearly chanted, and she could be seen clutching her temples as the pain escalated, becoming so agonized by the increasing crescendo she barely heard Knives' pistol fire, instead running into battle as told by the voices. Brutally decapitating the first enemy she saw, Legion began wildly swinging her chainsword, with no sense of self-preservation, not even shooting her laspistol as she left multiple vicious injuries and severed limbs in her wake, not even making sure they were dead. "WE…ARE…LEGION…!" She screamed in unison with the voices, right before landing a lethal blow on an attacking soldier.

After about three hours of insane combat, the Sorority stood victorious, completely obliterating the PDF platoon, soaking the road and the area immediately surrounding it in their blood. The Sisters had a brief period of raucous celebration for their success, then set about collecting anything useful or adding new trophies. "Any casualties, Bonesaw?" Massacre asked the resident medic of the cult. "Uhh…well, Agonizer's gonna need a new arm," the brunette began as she cleaned her namesake medical tool, which she also used as a weapon. "You got a tourniquet on that, right?" The Mistress asked. "Course I did, but um…Sekhmet broke her jaw, a few others got some lasgun wounds, a ton got some new scars, but they don't seem crippling, and the only one who actually got killed was Thrasher." "Good, but it's a shame about Thrasher. She was only like, what, 17? 18?" Massacre noted somberly, to which Bonesaw replied, "yeah, round there." "Guess that's just life for bad girls like us, eh? Live fast and die young." With a grin beneath the one stitched into her surgeon's mask, the brunette said, "at least we do it well." The blonde Mistress returned the expression, "That we do. Keep up the good work, Bonesaw."

Carnage sat on one of the bodies, her chainaxe embedded in his back, holding up her right arm as her brass dagger cut in her new kills, making small horizontal lines into her flesh, wincing slightly as she did so. "413…414…415." Double-checking to be sure, Carnage smiled, pleased with her progress. She'd already made 415 kills since her promotion to High Priestess 4 months ago, not long after her 21st birthday. _Khorne really is watching me_.

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><p><strong>So what'd y'all think?<strong>

**I got two more things to address, post-chapter:**

**1. Yes, that pun is bad, and Bloodmaw is using modern profanity. Can't I just have a little fun in dialogue?**

**2. The reference here is a song my older sister played in her car once, it got stuck in my head, and it grew on me. (Hint: read the second to last paragraph.)**

**Ooooh, it ends with a teaser to a plot thread! And there will be another, after the next chapter.**

**That about wraps it up, folks, next chapter's gonna show how these girls are on days when they're not fighting, so be on the lookout!**


	4. Chapter Three: The Sorority at Leisure

**Hey gang, sorry I haven't posted in awhile. Life happened, and I couldn't come up with something right away. I said this chapter would be on a day when they're not fighting, but this is just when the main 10 aren't fighting in general, taking place immediately after the previous. I also said I'd start one of the major plot threads after this chapter, but I may hold that off. **

**On a less serious note, I consider the song I referenced last chapter to be the Sorority's theme song. **

**Lastly, if you were confused by the wording, Carnage currently has 415 kills altogether. She did not make that many in 4 months.**

**But enough talk. Here's the Sorority at leisure.**

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><p><em>Chapter Three: The Sorority at Leisure<em>

Massacre surveyed the scene about her, drinking in the sight of the Sorority's handiwork. 150 corpses were scattered about the road and its surrounding grass, the ground thoroughly soaked in blood. Bonesaw left with the wounded not long after their conversation, and the dirty-blonde Mistress figured she and the remaining Sisters should head back as well. "Ladies!" she announced, making sure everyone was listening. "We're not staying much longer. Get all the shit we need and whatever you wanna take for yourself and let's go." A majority answered with some variant of "okay," whilst a fair amount groaned at the order. Looking over, Massacre noticed that Carnage, a few yards away, was turned away from her, and appeared to be counting her scars again, sitting on a corpse with her axe in its back. _Typical._ She thought, rolling her eyes, walking over to the High Priestess.

Carnage sensed her superior behind her, inwardly growling. "Didn't ya hear me, Carnage? We gotta go." Massacre stated firmly, only making the black-maned girl respond with, without even turning, "415, Mistress. Four-hundred and fifteen kills." she heard a scoff behind her. "Blood and thunder, Carnage, really? Are you really bringing this up again?" Getting up and facing the Mistress, Carnage shot back with, "I'm catching up, Mistress. I _will_ make 800 kills and become the new Mistress and you know it. Khorne has His eye on me." Massacre sarcastically laughed, saying, "If He does, as you say so, wouldn't you already have made it to Mistress by now? Actions speak louder than words, y'know." The raven-haired girl's eyes, even her dull blind one, became livid with anger. "What you did in 8 years I did in five. Obviously one of us is being watched. And it ain't you. 'Actions speak louder than words?' What are you, my mother?"

Massacre's temper was at its boiling point. "I sure will discipline you like her, you milky-eyed _brat_." Carnage howled in rage, which started yet another wrestling match between the two as they rolled around in the dirt screaming obscenities at each other. Cutthroat, who saw the fight, did a scoff of her own. _The fights between Mistress and Carnage really get pretty fucking petty after a while._ Making her way over to the scuffle, which was being watched by several other Sisters, the scarred blonde took out her laspistol and fired a shot into the air, close enough to catch the attention of the brawling girls. "By Khorne, this is getting annoying. Don't you remember we need to leave?" Cutthroat barked, which prompted Massacre to shove the still-pissed Carnage off of her. "Cutthroat's right." The Mistress stated, dusting herself off. "We better get moving before retaliation comes." "No reason we can't fight them too." Carnage muttered to herself as she dug her chainaxe out of her improvised seat.

After several minutes, the Sorority began the long march back to the captured outpost they called their temporary home. Frenzy, who was still coming down from the high of her combat drugs, removed the mask around her mouth, revealing the area to be heavily scarred. That was from her habit of scratching it fervently after wearing the mask for long periods of time, and she started the process anew, remembering to remove her gauntlets first. "Frenzy!" she heard a familiar voice, turning to see Lacerator, who speed-walked up to her. "Hey, how many'd you get today?" the psychopathic brunette asked, anxious to her friend's answer. "Lots. Lotslotslots. Good killin'. Spilled lotta blood." The blonde replied, then returned the question. "I got around…five, I think. You shoulda seen it, the way I chopped 'em up. Blood and thunder, it was _hilarious_! The first guy barely even saw it coming!" Lacerator started laughing again, her retelling of the battle becoming less and less coherent. "When I got to number five…hahaha...he tried to surprise me…ahahaha…but I cut his legs off…bahahahaha…and the best part was, I went…Oh Khorne, "I got an axe that won't quit!" AHAHAHAAAA!"

Bloodmaw didn't really talk to anyone on the way back, mostly figuring out what she should and shouldn't have done during the fight in order to be better prepared next time. "Hey Bloodmaw?" she looked over to see Razor, a younger Sister of 18. "What do you want, kid?" the brunette growled, clearly not in the mood for chit-chat. "I just wanted to say that I now have 30 kills. What do you think of that?" _30?_ Bloodmaw thought, _I made thirty __**before**__ I was 18. _Instead, she grinned, the blood-splatter moving with the muscles. "That's great! Should we give you an award? I made that many at 17! Now would you kindly shut your trap before I do it for you?" Bloodmaw responded with fake enthusiasm. Razor, as you may expect, was not amused. "You really are a fucking bitch, Bloodmaw." The older brunette kept smiling, "That's my job, kiddo. Now fuck off."

Knives' face scrunched as whiskey burned down her throat. She'd snagged the flask off of one of the fallen soldiers, and, being thirsty, helped herself to the fiery drink. "Blood and thunder, that's some strong shit." She said to herself, idly twirling one of her blades in her free hand. Going a little faster, she caught up to Huntress, whom she considered one of her friends, and the feeling was mutual, for they were both some of the "chill" Sisters. "Hey Huntress." She greeted, "Thirsty?" Offering the flask. Huntress nodded, taking the container, lowered her shemagh and took a swig, being one who could hold her drink, she didn't react as much as Knives. "Good stuff." The dirty blonde brusquely stated. "So how many'd you get?" the young brunette asked. "Three." Huntress replied. "Hey, me too! I saw you, and I have to say, you were just so calm and precise and all. You really were like some kinda assassin." The older girl smiled at the comparison. One reason she liked Knives was that despite her being a terribly good fighter, she was still a kid at heart. "You and I oughta work together more often, we'd be real good at getting skulls on the Throne. Knives and Huntress, Khorne's most badass killers." The free-spirit continued rambling, painting herself and her friend almost as action heroines. Huntress silently laughed at the thought. "We should."

Executioner and Legion walked quietly, barely even aware of each other's presence. The two young girls were farther back in the group, away from most of the conversations occurring. From underneath her mother's old blood-red kepi, Executioner noticed this, flitting her eyes over to Legion, who seemed to be having mental conversations with the voices in her head. "Hey." The older of the two said abruptly, snapping the younger out of her inner dialogues. "Oh, hey." She replied. "So, uh, how many'd you get?" Executioner asked awkwardly, not used to starting a discussion. "I…I don't really know." Was Legion's answer. "Really? How could you not know?" Executioner arched a brow. "Whenever we're about to fight, The Voices start yelling at me. They keep screaming about wanting blood and skulls, and they get so loud my head hurts. By the time we're actually going in it hurts so much I just go crazy, and I hardly even know what I'm doing." Intrigued, the older blonde inquired, "So is that why you were screaming "we are Legion" at the top of your lungs?" Legion was genuinely shocked by the question. "I did? I barely remember most of the fight, other than it started, and we won. Like I said, I really have no idea what I'm doing when The Voices are really loud." A moment of awkward silence fell upon the pair until Legion asked, "Did you get a whole lot?" "Four." Executioner replied.

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><p><strong>So that's what these girls are like outside battle. I believe now I can safely ask you all who your favorite is so far. Mention whom in your review.<strong>

**"Blood and thunder" is the Sorority's main exclamation, in case you were wondering. (it really was one back in the old days. I thought it suited them perfectly)**

**And to clarify, when I say Executioner wears a kepi, I'm referring to the US Civil War style ones, that aren't stiff like French ones. Look up some pics of Civil War soldiers to get an idea. I mention this in case anyone wants to draw the Sorority. (And please do. I would, but I suck.) PM me if you do, so I can show and or tell you what their outfits look like.**

**Think that's about it. See ya next time.**


	5. Ch 4: The Inquisition (Let's Begin)

**Hinga Dinga Durgen. It's Leif Eriksson Day. (Oct. 9)**

**I actually wrote this chapter a week or two ago, but delayed posting because it felt rushed. Then I figured I should just post it anyway, because I really want to get further into this story. You'll see why at the end of this chapter.**

**Now begins...the Inquisition!**

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><p><em>Chapter Four: The Inquisition (Let's Begin)<em>

The day after the ambush by the Sorority, the St. Fu PDF regiment that sent the investigatory platoon, led by a Colonel Loch, began growing suspicious. "Gentlemen," Loch began in front of his assembled officers in the regimental HQ's briefing room, "We've lost contact with two platoons in two weeks. The first from their outpost in the western part of the province, the second sent to look for them. Obviously someone has taken over the outpost and doesn't want us knowing who they are. Anyone have a suggestion to find out?" Loch asked everyone. "Send an armored regiment?" a Captain Niumann spoke up. "We don't know, and I don't mean to sound like a juvie, just what sorta heat these people are packing. I like your idea, Niumann, but again, it might be too risky." The Colonel answered. "There may be some sort of clue left at where the investigatory platoon was intercepted. Should we look there?" someone in the back loudly said. "Who said that?" Loch barked back, finding the source of the voice to be the much-younger Captain Burnsley. "Um, I did, Colonel Sir?" he asked, unsure even of himself for speaking out such a plan. "Well, I like your idea. We'll send some scouts out on the road the platoon used."

"Hey Mistress, y'know how we caught those guys who tried to find us yesterday?" Knives asked Massacre, who asked her to continue, "I was thinkin' that the rest of 'em are getting onto us. I mean, the mongrels who used to live here didn't answer their vox-thingy, and now the ones who came to look for 'em are dead too. Know what I'm saying?" the Mistress looked at the younger girl, impressed by her skills in logic. "Hey everyone!" the dirty blonde shouted, "Knives just brought up a real good point. We've been here long enough for these Corpse-Slaves to know where we are. So within the next day or two we're moving out."

It didn't take long for the scout team to find what was left of the platoon the day after they were sent out, coming across the area where their bodies, broken and butchered, lay strewn about. Animals and insects had already made meals out of many of them, rendering the corpses even more mangled. Disgusted and horrified, the small group of men trudged through anyway, determined to find something about who had done this. "Sweet merciful Emperor…" gasped Eldan Khartur, one of the younger guys, upon seeing a rather peculiar one of the dead. It was a girl, or perhaps the remains of one. In a weird way, she looked rather lovely, almost as though she were sleeping, minus the set of decay that was beginning to take its toll on her young features. Her hair had red streaks in it, and branded into her left shoulder was a strange symbol. This was what remained of Thrasher, one of the Sorority. "Hey fellas? You may wanna look at this." Khartur announced to the rest of the team.

"Sir? This is Scout Team Zero-Six-Nineteen with a lead on the enemy. We've found the corpse of a young female with a symbol branded into her left shoulder. Orders?" Colonel Loch's vox-caster crackled, stirring him from his paperwork. "A body, you say?" the older man replied, getting the response of, "Yessir." "Bring it here, so we can have a look at it."

When Scout Team 0619 returned, they laid their cadaverous clue onto an examination table in the medical area of the base. The doctors measured and studied just about every inch of her for two days, and despite figuring out she was between 17-18 years old and lived a very active lifestyle, they still couldn't decipher the rune on the dead girl's shoulder. "It's obviously some sort of membership sign to a gang." said Dr. Kevlich, as he washed his hands. "Very likely, but what about the teeth? Or her hair? Or eyes?" asked another doctor named Lennernach. "Probably membership signs too. We oughta find someone who knows what this mark is, though." Kevlich answered.

Loch's staff agreed to send the information gathered from the body to the planetary capital of St. Fu City, where it was further studied by the medical team of the Commander-in-Chief of the PDF, who concluded that the symbol was likely to be of heretical design. Naturally, this was caught by the Inquisition, which sent an investigator to the planet as fast as they could, even though the shuttle was not seen in St. Fu's skies for another four days.

Inquisitor Graic Backett of the Ordo Hereticus, a lanky fellow with stark blue eyes and a head of shaggy brown hair, stepped off of the shuttle, a lho stick dangling from his bearded lips and his hands in the pockets of his untied longcoat. Graic was unusual for an Inquisitor, to say the least, in that he was pretty easy-going. "Inquisitor." The Planetary Governor and Commander-in-Chief of the PDF greeted with a bow. "Spare me the formalities. Just tell me the information I need to start this investigation." Backett sighed, clearly tired from the long journey to this backwater planet. "Well sir, like we said, the corpse we've been studying has what may be a heretical symbol on her left shoulder." Said the head medical director of the PDF. "Well, okay then. What sorta drinks you people got? I'm thirsty and need a bit before I examine this body of yours." The Inquisitor returned, speaking more to everyone else than just the medical director.

Roughly an hour later, after being given a tall glass of the finest alcohol available on St. Fu, Inquisitor Backett was led to where the body was being kept. _She must've been quite a catch in life._ Graic silently observed the girl's corpse, for another oddity of the man as a member of The Emperor's Holy Orders was that he liked his women as much as he did immolating heretics. "Show me the mark." He ordered simply.

What he didn't expect was just _what _mark the shoulder bore, making his eyes widen from his usual half-lidded gaze. "Inquisitor?" the Governor asked, having seen Backett's reaction. "You all got a real problem here." the Inquisitor bluntly stated, turning back to the St. Fu ruling class. "Why is that, sir? Who is this girl affiliated with?" the general inquired. "She's a servant of the Ruinous Powers." The natives' expressions changed to ones of fear. Backett continued, "Yup, _those _Ruinous Powers. And not just any of them, no, this girl serves one of the worst of them. I won't say its name, but know this: Its followers will stop at nothing until everyone on this planet is drowning in their own blood. I don't know how much you value the lives of your people, sirs, but if you want to keep most of them alive we'll have to act fast. Luckily, these sort of heretics aren't exactly subtle." Graic finished with a slightly uplifting tone at the end of his sentence.

Meanwhile, the Sorority had already been traveling to a new base of operations, nobody aware of just what that place would be. The only one who didn't seemed worried about it was Massacre. In fact, she had a slight spring in her step as they continued walking, her hands behind her back and a little smirk on her face. "Uh, Mistress, just where're we going?" many of the Sisters immediately behind her wondered. "Don't worry, girls. The night before we left, I studied the map of this shithole, and found out just the perfect place where they'd never think to look." Massacre continued, her grin growing wider. "And where would that be?" Cutthroat, who was to the Mistress's left, asked her after swatting a fly away.

"The provincial capital."

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><p><strong>Ends with a bit of a wham line, doesn't it?<strong>

**And yes, Graic is portrayed by yours truly (except I'm nowhere as bearded as him, I don't smoke, and actually detest the taste of alcohol).**

**UPDATE: November 3rd, 2014: I changed Graic's dialogue so he sounds more like an Inquisitor. Thanks to Disciple of Ember for pointing that out.**

**I'll post a better chapter in the upcoming weeks, and I posted this in a foul mood because some asshat hit my car from behind this morning and ran off. I didn't even get a look at the guy, but on the bright side I'm okay.**

**Guess that's about it. Happy Leif Eriksson Day. Yurgur Hingur Dingur.**


	6. Chapter Five: Slumming It

**I'm baaaaaack! *dramatic thunder* Yep, another chapter of our favorite female Khornates is here! It's kinda short, but still though, a new chapter!**

**Sorry I haven't posted in awhile. Classes have been getting tougher and I've started working detail again, leaving me drained at the end of the day and just wanting to curl up with Dante's Inferno. But at least I've resumed making my own money.**

**Before we get started on this new installment in the Sorority's adventures, I'd like to ask CapitalClassShip and redstarzombie, the two readers who've Followed and Favorited this story, why you haven't given a review. I wanna know, in your own words, what you like about this story, and what you think I should work on.**

**And BIBOTOT, I've fixed the way dialogue is written between characters, so perhaps this'll be more convenient.**

**One last thing, if you listen to music while reading, for this chapter I'd recommend _Life During Wartime_ by Talking Heads.**

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><p><em>Chapter Five: Slumming It<em>

The city of Fusmouth was your average non-Hive Imperial city. Capital of the province Liberation, it was here the planet's patron saint had his mouth stitched shut by the Old Regime, and here were its first beginnings of the Revolution. To further the name, from a bird's-eye view, the city was laid out in a long, jagged line, and like a stitched mouth, with a few outlying branches, one of which contained the slums. Dirty and overcrowded, the narrows earned the nickname of "Phlegethon" for its near-lawlessness and amount of blood spilled daily. Murder, arson, theft, you name it, the bad part of town had it. The Sorority of Violence managed to arrive at this part of the metropolis late one night, when few locals were around. Taking refuge in an abandoned hotel, the Sisters began scouting around over the next few days and nights, burglarizing food and clothes (to better blend in), keeping lookout for potential pursuers to their previous slaughter, and stealthily killing anyone who made the dumb decision to try and get inside their building, minus curious children, who they simply scared away.

Other than that, the Sorority stayed holed up in their new little stronghold, and the few who ever actually did any of the aforementioned theft and scouting were the least scarred, thereby allowing easier disguises. One of them was Knives, who absolutely loved urban life, often simply exploring the expansive metropolis, scavenging or purloining anything she found interesting, making sure to keep a low profile during her wanderings, always wearing a hooded jacket she'd snatched from a department store.

That changed one evening, however, when the brunette found herself in one of the city's recreational hotspots, not far from Fusmouth's university. Predictably, a lot of students were around. "Hey you! In the hood!" a voice yelled at Knives. Stopping in her tracks, Knives sighed. _So much for anonymity,_ she thought, turning to face a guy not much older than her, with dyed electric blue hair, which looked that way even in her cheap shades she was wearing to hide her wolfish eyes.

"Oh, never seen you before. You new here?" the punkish fellow asked, to which the disguised brunette answered, being careful to not show her sharpened teeth, "Uh, yeah. Just moved in." The Sorority had no moral regards towards lying, but that half-truth Knives told him made her cringe inwardly. _You could've done better than that._  
>"So which classes do you take?"<br>"I uh, I'm not in any."  
>"Yeah, I kinda figured that when I got a good look at you."<br>"How so?" Knives arched a brow. "Eh, I know gutter kittens when I see 'em." The boy explained, a "gutter kitten" being regional slang for a desperate, slutty girl. "Excuse me?_"_ Knives growled. Even though she didn't fully understand the term, she knew it was something offensive. "You heard me, slut." The student's voice suddenly got frighteningly low, spooking Knives a little before she drew a hidden knife, sharply replying with, "fuck right off, pal." This only made him grin, "Ooh, a feisty one. This'll be good," as he roughly grabbed her chin. In that brief period of time, Knives saw the sleeve on his extended arm rise slightly, and noticed some sort of tattoo on the shoulder. Eyes widening, she was still fairly worried about what this freak would do to her, but seeing as to what this bit of ink was, it was like striking oil for her. _I've got to tell the others! _Remembering to break free, the brunette rammed her blade into the arm holding her chin.

Screaming in pain, the man withdrew his arm, Knives swearing there was a tone of excitement in his voice before bolting back to the hotel, shoving her way past confused students and other locals, one of whom was a tall, trenchcoat wearing man who shouted, "what the fuck, man?" as she continued sprinting. _This is great! Servants of the weakling Prince are here! The rest of the Sorority's gonna flip! _Knives excitedly thought, practically breathless as she burst through the old hotel's doors, yelling, "They're here!"

"Who is?!" the Sisters lounging about close to the door snarled at their comrade's spontaneous entrance. "Cultists of our Arch-Enemy!" Of course, the Sisters questioned her claim, but Knives silenced their doubts with, "I know they're here! This guy with blue hair had their Mark on his shoulder!"

All of the noise attracted the attention of Massacre, who strode down from the room she claimed as hers into the lobby, demanding, "What's going on, ya half-wits?!"  
>"The Knife-Lover here says followers of the Lord of Excess are within the city." Bloodmaw growled.<br>"Followers, eh Knives?" Massacre smirked, walking towards the younger brunette.  
>"Yeah, Mistress. A blue-haired guy had Its Mark on him."<br>"Really? Are you sure? You know for a fact it was their Mark?"

"I know their Mark when I see it, Mistress, and this guy had it."  
>"And what did this 'guy' look like?"<br>"He had blue hair, and tonight I stabbed him in the arm."

"Why in the arm?"  
>"Long story."<br>"Blue hair and a broken arm… Alright, tomorrow I'm gonna take Carnage and we're gonna find and tail him, figure out where the Slaaneshi vermin live. Thanks for the info, Knives."  
>"Any time, Mistress."<p>

Inquisitor Backett had arrived in Fusmouth two days ago, and so far he hadn't picked up any new leads. The cult that dead girl belonged to, despite being devoted to Khorne, managed to cover their tracks pretty well. The trail was getting cold, and he was beginning to lose his patience. Normally cultists of Khorne would've attacked another installation by now, but the fact that this group did not served only to irritate him. Having personally encountered servants of the Blood God, he often managed to find them, or at least receive the latest word (as in, the last attack occurred less than a week before) on their whereabouts not long after arriving. The next day he'd be heading to the fort where the original occupants were, but he doubted they'd still be there. _Calm down, Graic, it's only followers of the Arch-Enemy who'll leave the citizenry of this little planet a massive bloodstain if we don't find them_, Graic thought with sarcastic self-deprecation, before taking a drag off of his lho stick. _Not like it matters. They'd just be a drop in the ocean, anyway. But I'm an Inquisitor, dammit. It's my job to keep The Emperor's Domain standing against any and all threats, no matter how many of its inhabitants die._

Even though he'd spent many a year in cities, he still found Fusmouth fairly impressive, its layout a welcomed sight to see compared to a Hive City. Standing outside the Regimental HQ in the center of town, Backett figured he might as well poke around and clear his head before heading to the fort tomorrow, taking one last drag of the stick. Flicking it, he stamped the cigarette-like tube out and started off towards the bright lights of what appeared to be one of the entertainment districts. _They're probably long gone by now, off somewhere we'll never think to look…Alright, stop thinking like that, this cult can't be that smart. There's no way in the Warp they've found some place even these people can't fi- _His train of thought of stalled when a skinny figure in a hood rushed by him, shoving the Inquisitor out of their way. "What the fuck, man?" Graic snapped at the person who continued running, not responding. "Eh, probably just some pickpocket who can't steal_._" Backett rationalized, then looked over himself to make sure nothing of his was stolen. _Good, the little rat didn't take anything. Now to find me a little pick-me-up…_

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><p><strong>More plot thread teasers!<br>**

**But seriously though, I must confess that Knives is personally my favorite Sister, because she's basically a more badass version of me in terms of personality, so that's why I had her run afoul of the Slaaneshi cultist. **

**Don't worry, each of the Sorority, most of those named anyway, will have their own day in the limelight at least twice, once in the present storyline and another as a flashback detailing just how they all became the way they are.**

**Massacre and Carnage are going to have the next chapter to themselves, and it'll have a little fanservice. I won't say what, but I think you'll enjoy it. I'll get started on that in the next few days.**

**And with that, I hope you all had a good Halloween. G'night.**

**UPDATE: November 3rd, 2014: Fixed a few little inconsistencies within the text. Thanks again to Disciple of Ember for helping me write in a more proletarian manner.**


	7. Chapter Six: To Catch a Rat

**So here's the sixth chapter, with the fanservice I promised last chapter. Kept getting stuck for how to progress and had some schoolwork to do. Don't have much to say here.**

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><p><em>Chapter Six: To Catch a Rat<em>

Mornings in Fusmouth were often rather bleak and cloudy, something Massacre, whose position as Mistress of the Sisterhood required a level of observance, noticed as she and Carnage trudged through the streets of Phlegethon, looking for the Slaaneshi scum Knives encountered the previous night. Both women were in hoods, Carnage's significantly deeper, obscuring the upper half of her face in shadow. Massacre hid her eyes with a pair of shades. Neither spoke to one another since they had both awoken earlier that day, each more concerned with finding the den this filth crawled into at night to do whatever his weakling god called "worship."

"I honestly have no idea why you decided to drag me along, Mistress." Carnage suddenly said, making Massacre flinch ever-so-slightly at the break in silence, for the pair had not encountered any people as they stalked down the twisting streets, it was too early for most of these folks to be out and about. "Just figured you'd want some fresh air, Carnage." Massacre replied to the black-maned 21-year-old, who spat back, "Don't think I don't know you're planning to rob me of it forever when my back's turned, Mistress." _How dare this little bitch think I'd violate Bloodmane's Law just because she is one, _Massacre exasperatedly thought, outraged at Carnage even _thinking_ that the Mistress would kill her out of spite. Bloodmane's Law, after all, stated thusly, "To deprive a Sister of this Sorority of her life by one of her own is to deprive Khorne of one of His faithful."

"I CANNOT believe you just said that." Massacre snarled,  
>"Well, I fucking did, because we both know it's true."<br>"You know I'd never put Bloodmane's Law underneath me! As much as I _would_ like to kill you, I won't, because I actually have a _sense of honor!"_

The two were about to start coming to blows yet again when Carnage saw a man behind the dirty blonde Mistress about 30 yards away. He had electric blue hair, and in one of his arms he cradled his other, which appeared to have a tourniquet tied around it. Pausing, the High Priestess studied him, confirming her suspicions this was indeed their target. "What're you looking at, Carnage?!" a still hot-blooded Massacre barked, to which said girl murmured, "Him."

Turning around, Massacre saw whom her inferior pointed out, the same blue-haired fellow Knives stabbed in the arm the night before. It didn't seem as though he had seen the two almost-fighting women, instead walking away from them down an alleyway perpendicular to the street they were going along. Wordlessly, Massacre and Carnage immediately began following him, making sure to keep the distance they currently had to avoid him feeling their presence.

The Sisters followed the guy for about a half hour, never letting him out of their sight as he tread through various streets, avenues, and alleys, until he came up to an old, warehouse type building, entering through a rusted door. "I'm being followed," The blue-haired boy muttered to the occupants within. Unbeknownst to Massacre and Carnage, he was one of the cult's lookouts, wandering around the area every morning to report anything interesting or useful to his leaders. He was quite lucky in that he had found Massacre and Carnage not far from where he was, walking away at just the right moment before the raven-haired Sister spotted him.

"By who?" one of the Slaaneshi cultists asked in response,  
>"They look like friends of the little strumpet that broke my arm last night. It won't be long before they come in, and I noticed these two don't seem to like each other. We should use that against them."<br>"Ooh, I know _just_ the distraction." A silky, feminine voice said, seemingly from nowhere.

Massacre and Carnage stopped in front of the warehouse's door, the latter about to open it when the Mistress stopped her, "Don't just barge in, numbskull! At least get your stuff out." In one of the few times Carnage acknowledged Massacre's advice, with a thought of, _Oh, right. Can't believe I was that stupid, _she drew her bolt pistol and brass dagger underneath her jacket, for her chainaxe would, rather obviously, be too difficult to conceal. Likewise, Massacre readied her storm bolter hidden in her greatcoat, unsheathing her knife on the back of her belt.

With a kick into the door, the two women slowly walked into the room, guns and blades brandished to kill. Nobody was there to "greet" them, instead the whole room was dark and seemingly empty. A single aisle, the one directly in front of Massacre and Carnage, was illuminated by a long line of cheap fluorescent lights. Both knew the Slaaneshi freaks in here would likely ambush them, so, acting smart, Massacre walked forward, Carnage backwards, to deter an attack from behind.

"Ready?" one of the cultists of the Dark Prince whispered to a succubus of a woman, who licked her lips before purring a "yes," as she reached her mind out into one of the intruders' own.

Carnage carefully scanned the little walkway of light she and Massacre were on as they crept forward, glancing to her sides every ten steps in case these rats tried flanking them. Every part of her was on high alert, relying almost purely on instinct to be ready to fight if any sort of attack came.

She didn't expect just _where_ that attack would come from.

**Hello there, pretty little thing.** A woman's voice said in her consciousness.**  
><strong>_WHAT THE?! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?! GET OUTTA MY HEAD! _Carnage mentally roared.  
><strong>But I don't want to get out. I want to know you, kitty-cat.<br>**_I'M GONNA FIND YOU AND KILL YOU SO HARD THE REST OF YOUR FUCKTARDED MONGREL FRIENDS AREN'T GONNA RECOGNIZE YOUR FUCKING CORPSE!  
><em>**My! Such an angry young woman! Are you like this all the time?  
><strong>_WHY DO YOU CARE?! YOU'LL BE FUCKING DEAD BEFORE YOU FIND OUT, SLUT-DOG!  
><em>**Such hateful words! Didn't your mother teach you how to be a lady? Please, calm down. All I want is to ask you a question.  
><strong>_OKAY, FINE. WHAT ABOUT ME DO YOU WANT TO KNOW BEFORE YOU DIE?  
><em>**Your friend here. What do you think of her?  
><strong>_Massacre? _The High Priestess was surprised by the question, her mental responses becoming less vitriolic, _I…I think she's a bitch.  
><em>**Really? If you don't like her, why are you here with her?  
><strong>_She asked me.  
><em>**Did you want to come with her?  
><strong>_Not really. She insisted.  
><em>**Let me ask you a different question. Do you two fight a lot?  
><strong>_What do you think?  
><em>**Have you ever thought just why you keep getting into arguments?  
><strong>_Because she's a bitch. I hate her.  
><em>**Well, I think it's something else.  
><strong>_What could else could make me want to rip her apart?  
><em>**I think, deep down, you don't want to rip her apart. You just want **_**her. **_**  
><strong>_WHAT?!  
><em>**Think about it, sweetheart. You keep coming up with things to fight about because neither of you are willing to share how you truly feel about each other.  
><strong>Carnage was stunned, yet still angry over the voice's theory. …_You really think the reason we fight is because she secretly wants me, you fucked up bitch?  
><em>**You **_**both**_** want each other, that's why you two cover it up with anger and hate. But now you're here, alone, away from prying eyes. Now you can finally show it.**

Before she could rebuke the voice, a long-dormant part of Carnage's mind suddenly came to life, and it came as quick and deadly as a tornado. Filthy, vulgar, lucid images of Massacre overwhelmed her consciousness, so vivid yet temporary she couldn't block them out. It was like watching a slideshow of sex, starring the dirty blonde the High Priestess normally hated. Something within her rumbled, and heat began spreading throughout her body. Lust, a feeling Carnage had never felt in her 21 years, revealed itself to her, full-force, all of it directed at the Mistress.

Massacre kept her guard up, her storm bolter trained ahead, occasionally sweeping her view to the sides. She didn't know when these vermin would attack, but they would, and she'd be ready. _C'mon, cowards! Show yourselves! I thought you liked pain! Why don't you JUST FUCKING COME OUT?!_ She angrily thought, just as she felt someone rapidly and roughly turn her around, almost shooting what was in fact Carnage in surprise. "Carnage! What do you think you're-" Massacre yelled, before Carnage lunged into her, the black-maned girl's good eye hazy with pure, undiluted want, slamming a hungry pair of lips into those of the Mistress, tongue invading her mouth seconds afterward.

Massacre tried to pull away, but Carnage had an iron grip, holding her tight as her oral assault continued. **Relax, Massacre. Take the feeling in and enjoy it, **A woman's voice resounded in her head, and before she knew it, Massacre started kissing _back, _mobilizing her own tongue to meet Carnage's, which then dueled in each other's mouths. Somewhere in the basement of the building, the sorceress grinned giddily at the sight in her mind's eye. For what seemed to be an eternity, the Sisters reveled in this newfound feeling, making out with fiery passion, the outside world melting away around them.

It was when the two finally broke that the world came back in the worst way possible.

"MISTRESS LOOK OUT!" Carnage screamed as a Slaaneshi cultist appeared behind the dirty blonde, a large knife raised in his hand. If Carnage had not seen him, the two would have still been under the spell of lust, but since she had, the illusion of desire was broken. By sheer luck, neither Sister dropped their guns, allowing the High Priestess to shoot the man before he stabbed Massacre. At that moment, several more cultists emerged from the surrounding darkness, and the fight was on.

Massacre's storm bolter claimed two of the oncoming group, when she heard a roar behind her, whipping around to see a young woman, wearing next to nothing, charging bare-handed at the Mistress. With a roar of her own, Massacre pistol-whipped the girl in the head with a loud crack, killing her almost instantly. Just as she was turning around, a cultist managed to tackle the Mistress to the floor. Massacre was no stranger to this sort of thing, and the two struggled for several moments before she managed to get on top, using her brass dagger to stab the man(?) in the neck.

Meanwhile, Carnage was living up to her name, furious at being coerced into kissing her enemy. "YOU FUCKERS ARE GONNA PAY FOR THAT!" She shrieked, grabbing a foe and shooting her pistol into his stomach, spewing chunks of intestine onto the floor. The High Priestess then smashed the gun downwards into the head of another cultist of indeterminate gender, slashing her knife across their throat. A few seconds later, a punch was thrown at her, but Carnage managed to snatch the fist, then the back of the cultist's, this time a girl about her age's, head, slamming her face into a stack of crates forming the aisle the fight was occurring in several times before finishing her off with a point-blank shot, the girl's blood and brains splattering into the wood of the crates._  
><em>

A second attack never seemed to come, so Massacre and Carnage bolted from the building, knowing the Slaaneshi would not pursue them in broad daylight without being exposed as heretics to any witnesses. Of witnesses, there were few other than some people running late to work, speed-walking or running like the Sisters. Neither group ever stopped to look, so the two got back to their hideout without trouble.

"So, did you find out where the little bastards hide? I can't _wait_ to introduce them to my axe!" Lacerator asked the pair shortly after they had returned and caught their breath. "Yeah, we did." Massacre answered. Bloodmaw, who appeared with a steaming cup of stolen recaf, looked the Mistress and Carnage up and down before snarkily saying, "Looks like you got to have a bit of fun." Glancing down at themselves, the two noticed their disguises had a fair amount of blood on them. "What happened?" Lacerator inquired. Remembering what had occurred in the warehouse earlier, Massacre and Carnage looked unsurely at each other before the raven-haired girl replied with, "You do not wanna know."

* * *

><p><strong>You're welcome, guys.<strong>

**Then again, this kinda falls flat because I haven't actually shown what the Sisters look like. Before the year is up I'll try and get some pictures floating around. Hopefully someone is willing to draw these crazy girls. PM me if you'd wanna take up the mantle.**

**Till next time, everyone. Oh and if you haven't, go see _Fury. _I saw it today and it was utterly awesome. **


	8. Chapter Seven: Old Evidence, New Leads

**Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! New chapter here for you all to read while you digest all that food, right? It moves a bit quickly, but I think you'll enjoy it.**

****UPDATE: Black Friday, (Nov. 28) 2014: I forgot to mention that in my spare time, I have a bad habit of reading Elsanna (ElsaxAnna from _Frozen_), and read one story called _Creative Writing_ (If you too like Elsanna, go read it, and say Sgt. Curbstomp sent ya). The author, Amnestyyy, was saying they'd take ideas and requests for the story (it makes sense in the context of the story), and I asked if they'd reference this story in their own, because Frostbite and Skadi (briefly mentioned in Ch.1: Dramatis Personae), actually are Elsa and Anna respectively, and yes, I will give them their own chapter.****

****Ok, that's enough chatter.****

* * *

><p><em>Chapter Seven: Old Evidence, New Leads<em>

That same day Massacre and Carnage found a warehouse containing Slaaneshi cultists in Fusmouth, Inquisitor Backett had left for the fortress the Sorority had sacked several weeks earlier, using a Valkyrie, courtesy of the Commander-in-Chief of St. Fu's PDF, to turn a trip that two days by land into a few hours' flight. Accompanying him was Scout Team Zero-Six-Nineteen, whom he had taken as his temporary retinue for this investigation. For a long time, Graic had a real, attached group of bodyguards and aides, but they were slowly diminished over the years, and his only friend amongst them, the Psyker Dante Jaxen, was the last of the team to die, sadly by Backett's own hand when a Plaguebearer attempted to possess him. Ever since then, Graic had instead followed his old mentor, Nicklaus Greyfang, and his retinue.

That was, until several months ago, when Huron Blackheart, the feared Master of the Red Corsairs, emerged from his domain in the Maelstrom a few Sectors over to attack the nearby systems with a great host of fellow Chaos Space Marines and Daemonic allies. When Greyfang was called to aid the Astartes and Astra Militarum regiments holding the heretics back, Graic would never forget what he and the elder Inquisitor exchanged in their final conversation as Nicklaus boarded the ship transporting him to the warzone.

* * *

><p>"<em>You're staying here, boy." Nicklaus said gruffly as he lightly pushed Graic back.<br>"Aren't I part of your retinue, Master?" Even though Backett had been performing investigations on his own for twelve years, he still showed respect towards his mentor.  
>"Graic," that was the first time Greyfang ever called him by his first name, "I've been your Master since you were a young lad, scared and alone, in the ruins of your Schola during the Cleansing of Eurydice. We've found and executed many heretics together, and I've taught you all I know. Now I'm old and weary, and you're still full of vim and vigor. You deserve to live a bit longer as an Inquisitor than I do."<br>"If you're gonna die fighting, Master, I'm going down with you!"  
>Nicklaus smiled sadly, "Still have that fightin' spirit, too. You've got a full life ahead of you as a member of the Emperor's Holy Orders, and don't cut it short just because I'll be gone."<br>"But-"  
>"But nothin'! Look boy, one dead Inquisitor doesn't change shit in the whole Galaxy," Greyfang barked angrily, then softened again, "and it'd be better that it was an old dog like me than a pup like you. I'm actually asking you to stay behind and let me and the rest of the crew deal with this. Can you do that for me, son?"<br>Backett felt a single tear on his face, swallowing before answering, "Yes, Master."  
>"Good lad. Guess I'll be off." The old Inquisitor then walked up the boarding ramp, looking back at his long-time Acolyte with a small grin and gave him the Sign of the Aquila, to which Graic returned the gesture.<em>

* * *

><p>"Inquisitor?" Backett snapped back to reality as he looked over to Scout Team Zero-Six-Nineteen, of whom the sergeant of the group, Claid Boniface, asked for his attention. "What?" the Witch Hunter replied.<br>"What are these heretics like?"  
>"You mean the ones we're specifically dealing with?"<br>"Um, yeah, I guess."  
>"By law I can't tell you much, otherwise all of you'd be executed, or worse, for knowing, and I'd probably be executed for telling you in the first place. I guess what I can say is that this sort of heretic lives only to kill, for the sake of killing, and spilling as much blood as possible doing it. That answer your question?"<p>

The scouts all fidgeted uncomfortably in their seats, double-checking their lasguns while they were at it. Backett smirked at their reaction, saying, "Don't worry, boys. We got the firepower of this baby too," with a few knocks on the Valkyrie's interior. After a scant moment of silence, Graic then turned the conversation to the soldiers. "So, since you all'll be my little band of misfits for a while, I might as well get to know your names." Zero-Six-Nineteen looked at each other, before the sergeant spoke up first with, "Claid, Claid Boniface," followed up with "Laius Malcaster," "Jarek Tormen," "Paal Yarden," and "Eldan Khartur." Reclining back into his seat, the Inquisitor put his hands together and said, "Ok, now that we've introduced ourselves we'd better prepare to land. It's about time to, according to what the pilot said."

Sure enough, the aircraft did land in front of the stronghold's gates, the scouts exiting and getting into an attack formation. Backett drew a bolt pistol which he had named "Eurydice's Revenge," wordlessly directing Tormen and Malcaster to stand close beside the gates on each side, before drawing his power sword. With another few gestures, he instructed the pilot to fire the Valkyrie's lascannon at the gates, blowing them open. Smoke curled from the broken entrance, but nothing else came out. After a few moments, the Inquisitor silently ordered the two scouts close to the gates to go inside, whispering to the three with him, "Advance. Slowly."

The six men scoured every nook and cranny of the fort for several hours, overturning every possible hiding place and finding nothing alive, but many resources stolen. "All the rations are gone, sir." Yarden said as they regrouped. "So is just about everything in the medical station. All the dressings, bandages, and tools. A few of the augmetics are gone, too." Khartur added. Graic muttered a curse under his breath before holstering his weapons. "Well boys, at least we know they didn't stick around long and really needed the stuff here. Looks like we're back to square one. Normally these sort of followers of the Ruinous Powers would've made another slaughter by now, but they haven't. Not only is this odd, it's also pretty frustrating." The scout team just sort of stood there, not sure how to respond. "You all haven't seen any more of the symbol that dead kid had branded on her arm, have you? Or a drawing of an eight-pointed star?" Backett piped up during the interlude, getting no's in response. _Subtle Khornates. Just what I _fucking_ needed._ Graic angrily thought, then sighed, "Guess we go back to the ship, gents."

Trudging back to the waiting Valkyrie, the Inquisitor noticed the pilot appeared to be speaking into the vehicle's vox system. As he got in, the pilot stopped him. "Just got word from the HQ, sir. Bodies have been found in one of the city's warehouses. The colonel wants you to see them. Says they might be linked to the dead girl we found a couple weeks ago." Backett wasn't sure whether he should've been full of joy or dread.  
>"How fast can we make it back to Fusmouth?"<br>"At top speed, two hours, sir."  
>"Don't just sit there, let's get going!"<p>

It was early evening when Graic and Zero-Six-Nineteen returned to Fusmouth, the Valkyrie landing within the Regimental HQ. Almost scrambling to get out, the six were led to the warehouse Massacre and Carnage had escaped that morning, the bodies left where they had been. "What happened?" Backett asked, not even allowing Colonel Loch to greet him.  
>"Earlier today a young man with a broken arm said he heard a fight in here, and saw two figures run out."<br>"Did he specify what they looked like?"  
>"Said they were two women, judging by their body shape, and couldn't see their faces because they had deep hoods on."<p>

By now the Inquisitor was feeling anxious. He could hear his heart pounding as he looked over to the corpses packed into a single aisle of the warehouse. One in particular had caught his attention. That of a young woman, due of her lack of modesty. Women were the last thought on Backett's mind at the moment, only noticing the fact that the girl was practically naked because it would be easier for him to find any sort of heretical symbol on her person. Luckily, he didn't have to look awkward in front of the Colonel or his group to search, finding one tattooed to her right shoulder. His sense of anxiety skyrocketed upon seeing the mark, flashing back to a battle fought with heretics bearing the same symbol many years before, with his old henchmen.

The group was holding off an ambush as they waited for extraction, Eurydice's Revenge barking death and Dante's roiling psychic powers claiming more, Backett's other teammates firing their hellguns. The cultists weren't stopped by casualties, instead hysterically charging the retinue with mad determination. Right as the ship removing them from the area arrived, a new wave of attackers suddenly appeared, except they were not as concerned with Graic and his men as they were with the cultists, butchering the depraved maniacs with their own murderous rage. The Inquisitor and his men knew from previous encounters that the new enemies were followers of Khorne, and used the unintentional aid as a distraction to escape.

"Inquisitor Backett? What's wrong?" Colonel Loch worriedly asked. Said man seemed lost in both shock and memory, staring at the symbol on the corpse's shoulder. A moment passed until Backett answered, in a low voice underpinned with fear,

"The cult of that dead girl you found awhile back has been here this whole time."

* * *

><p><strong>I'm quite proud of those flashbacks, and of how it's given Graic a bit more character. Next chapter will feature the Sorority for the most part, but the Inquisitor will feature, too. They won't meet yet, but they will soon.<strong>

**Speaking of the Sorority, as a Christmas gift for you all, I may write a short, non-canon chapter detailing what I think the Sisters would be like if they were real people in our present time. Also, I STILL ask someone if they'd be willing to draw them. If you're interested in one or another, say so in a review!**


	9. Chapter Eight: Plans Made, Lines Drawn

**New chapter! I think I've settled into a regular schedule of updating this story, that of around every 2 weeks or so. I know that's too long for some of you, but this is just something we all do for fun, right?**

**Anyway, the author Lost Guy is having the Sorority (of a previous generation) feature in his new story for a few chapters (it's called _Pluvian Box_, go read it!), and Amnestyyy, the person who's writing the Elsanna story _Sorority_ is mentioned in **(_Creative Writing_)**, is turning the reference into a small subplot. Now all I need is someone who'd be willing to draw my characters before the year is up. **

**Think that's everything. On with the show!**

* * *

><p><em>Chapter Eight: Plans Made, Lines Drawn<em>

After spending several hours coping with the fact that she and a certain High Priestess fervently kissed each other earlier that day, Massacre felt ready to address the Sorority about the cultists of the Lord of Excess. Sitting up from the old hotel bed in the room she claimed as hers, the Mistress swung her legs over the side and got up, heading out to get everyone assembled.

Walking down the long hallway, Massacre glanced over at the room Carnage was staying in. _Should we talk? _She mentally asked herself, stopping in her tracks. _I mean, she was the one who started…whatever that was. Least she could do is apologize._ The dirty blonde was considering the option when Cutthroat appeared in the corner of her eye, who said, "Heard you and Carnage found where the Arch-Enemy scum hide. You getting us together for a plan?"  
>"I am, Cutthroat."<br>"Why're you just standing in front of her door? Aren't you gonna have her come down?"  
>Massacre sighed, then pulled the scarred blonde closer, quietly replying, "Look, Cutthroat, you and I have known each other since we were kids, so can I assume you won't let this get out?" Cutthroat arched a brow, yet answered, "Sure."<br>"Something happened between her and I happened this morning when we found their hideout."  
>"Go on."<br>"We were searching the place back to back, expecting an ambush, when Carnage all a sudden whips me around and starts _kissing _me."  
>Cutthroat's eyebrows shot up at that, "She kissed you?"<br>"Yeah, and she even used her tongue."  
>"Did you try and get her to stop?"<br>"She wouldn't let me go! It was like she glued herself onto me. And that's not even the worst part."  
>"Why, what happened next?"<br>"I…I…sweet blood and merciful thunder…I started kissing _back_."  
>"You kissed back? Why the fuck did you start doing that?" Unbelief riddled Cutthroat's voice, her ruined cheek almost widening from her dropped jaw.<br>"I dunno, Cutthroat, something just came over me."  
>"How long did you two kiss?"<br>"A minute, maybe? It stopped when we actually _were_ ambushed and Carnage noticed one of them."  
>"Sounds to me like you and her were somehow tricked into doing that. No Sister's ever randomly kissed me like that."<br>"You're right, Cutthroat, that's probably what happened. But it's still weird to think about."  
>"Eh, you'll get over it." Cutthroat then grinned, jokingly adding, "I think Carnage hates you a little less now that she knows what your mouth tastes like."<p>

Massacre couldn't help but laugh at that, giving her a little relief from the stress of the situation. "Nice one, Cutthroat. I think she needs to cope with it a little longer, though. She can stay up here while we get a plan together."

Inside Carnage's room, a few silent tears were shed upon hearing Cutthroat's jest.

* * *

><p>With a bit of her confidence restored, the Mistress strode down to the lobby of the old hotel, having Cutthroat and passing Sisters alert the others of the meeting about to commence. "Summon every Sister to the lobby, girls. This is fucking important!" Massacre ordered her underlings, who scattered all across the building to send the message. "Everyone except Carnage! She ain't feeling so hot." The dirty blonde added, getting various questions of why in response. "She just isn't feeling good, you dipshits. Now go tell the others!"<p>

Once the Sorority had been assembled, Massacre stood on the landing of the lobby's stairs, looking across her comrades, all eagerly anticipating the plan for their next move. "Alright everyone, I'm pretty sure you all know Carnage and I found out where the Arch-Enemy filth hide earlier this morning. Now we gotta figure out how we can draw them out and offer their empty skulls to Khorne. Does anyone have a suggestion?"

Nobody spoke for several minutes, for they were all brainstorming ideas. "C'mon, girls. I know you're all smarter than this! These Slaaneshi slut-dogs can't even plan their next breath!" the Mistress barked, growing impatient with the Sisters' silence. Scanning the large room again, she hoped someone would come up with something, until her eyes settled on Legion. The young blonde simply seemed to be sitting there, her expression blank. "Legion!" Massacre yelled at her, startling her out of her daydream. "You got an idea or are you just gonna sit there looking like a brain-damaged statue?"  
>"The Voices actually do have a plan."<br>The dirty blonde Mistress's eyes widened, "Well, let's hear it!" All attention switched to Legion, who flinched a little at suddenly being in the spotlight. "Umm… The Voices said Knives oughta find the blue-haired guy again, slit his throat and leave his body at the place you and Carnage went to this morning with a note saying something like, 'meet us a few miles outside town,' then we fight them."

The whole Sorority stared at Legion incredulously. Nobody expected someone like her to come up with a plan like that. Granted, it still had a few kinks to iron out, but it was a great one nonetheless. "Blood and thunder, Legion actually has something in her head other than all those voices. Even I'm impressed." Said Bloodmaw, her praise of the plan still covered in snark. Likewise, just about every Sister expressed approval of Legion's idea, until Massacre stated, "Hold on, people. This is a good _framework_ for an idea, but it's missing things. Now we gotta fill in those gaps or else we'll be at their mercy and not the other way around."

Soon enough, a final layout to the scheme was agreed upon. It ran as such: Knives would find the blue-haired guy, come up with a bogus reason and apology for her attack, lead him somewhere hidden and kill him, then leave his corpse (or head) in front of the warehouse Massacre and Carnage found with a note that said 'we know who you are. Meet us three miles northeast of this building,' then ambush and slaughter them. Peering over the crudely written paper that held this strategy, Massacre smiled deviously and announced, "Alright ladies, we got ourselves a plan. It starts tomorrow night."

* * *

><p>Later that evening, after making the discovery of the Sorority's presence within the city, Inquisitor Backett requested the Planetary Governor and Commander in Chief of the PDF to immediately come to Fusmouth. Around three hours later, close to the planet's midnight, the two men arrived after being escorted to the warehouse. "Governor, Commander," Graic began, "I required your presence here because I have just found not only the heretics we were originally searching for, but another cult dedicated to the Ruinous Powers," Backett announced, pointing to the bodies still covering the building's floor, "and they're both somewhere here in this city." The officials blanched at the grim news, asking the Inquisitor what should be done. "How much do you care about the lives of your people?" Graic replied with another question, to which the Commander answered back,<br>"We try and take as few casualties as possible, sir."  
>"So are you ruling out we purge this part of town, then?"<br>"Of course we are, Inquisitor. If we just randomly start killing people, there will be serious unrest and we'll go back to before Saint Fu came to us."  
>"I'm not overly concerned with the history of your planet, no offense, but we need to be able to kill two birds with one stone and get rid of both of these cults…" As Backett spoke, an idea was forming in his mind, which made him ask, "Do you expect much out of your citizens to report crimes and capture lawbreakers without the aid of your police force?"<br>The Governor, Commander, and Colonel Loch looked at him, unsure what led the Inquisitor to ask them such a question. "We do, yes." The ruler of the world said after a moment, "After all, Saint Fu himself was an ordinary man who…"  
>"I get it, your Governorship," the Inquisitor cut him off, "I just need you to contact the medical director and have him bring the dead heretic girl over here as soon as possible."<br>"What are you getting at, Inquisitor?" asked the PDF's supreme commander. Graic didn't answer right away, instead going back over to the corpses of the Slaaneshi cultists, hefting up the body of the man who received a point-blank stomach shot from Carnage.

* * *

><p>Huntress quietly walked through the streets of Fusmouth's slums, her shemagh around her throat, eyes hidden by both shades and her black cadet hat pulled low over them, and a jacket covering her wrapped arms. Dressed this way, she simply looked like one of Phlegethon's many vagrants and bums, her demeanor further hiding her true identity. The 23-year old Sister noticed a lot of people were around this morning, more than usual, all of them heading in the same direction. <em>Some sort of event?<em> Huntress thought, curious to see where they were going.

Following the peoples' lead, Huntress saw they were walking towards a large public square, the chatter of men and women alike becoming increasingly louder and more emotional as the destination came closer into view. What everyone was looking at almost made Huntress want to vomit.

Strung up to a lamppost in a crucifixion-like manner was Thrasher, the Sister they had lost in their previous battle. Her eyes and mouth were wide open, and around her neck hung a wooden sign that read:

_I am a heretic and enemy of the Imperium. All young women with blood-soaked hair, yellow eyes, and filed teeth are to be killed on sight with extreme prejudice. A reward of two thousand thrones will be offered for every corpse brought into the Regimental HQ of the St. Fu Planetary Defense Forces._

_The Emperor Protects._

Across from the body of Thrasher, that of a man was also tied to a streetlight, a similar sign around his neck. Huntress didn't bother reading it, already turning around and walking away from the terrifying scene as inconspicuously as possible, almost literally praying to Khorne nobody saw her. Luckily, the people of Fusmouth were too occupied with the corpses on display to look around and see a knavish girl trudging from the square.

Returning to the hideout, Huntress immediately went to Massacre. "Hey Huntress," the Mistress greeted, "you're back early. What happened?"  
>"Mistress, we're gonna have to make a change in our plans."<p>

* * *

><p><strong>See how I tied everything back together?<strong>

**I got the idea of Thrasher's corpse on display from both _Gangs of New York _(the way her body is hung) and _Fury _(the sign). It came to me last night (December 9th), but couldn't write it out because I was studying for the exam I took earlier today. Lucky to remember, right?**

**I'm still debating on whether or not I should write the Christmas gift I said I would in the last chapter, that of a non-canon interlude showing what the main ten Sisters would be like in real life. For one thing, it'd provide a way to build tension for the next real chapter, but on the other hand, it'd be an unusual break from the story. Plus, I have no idea how Cutthroat and Frenzy would translate into real people. I dunno guys, what do you think? Should I do it or not? Review or PM me with your opinion on this.**

**Other than that, Happy Holidays!**


End file.
